


First Impressions of a Flightless Bird

by TheDrawingBoard



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Has a Companion piece, M/M, kill me I need happiness with these two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-29 19:48:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10860864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDrawingBoard/pseuds/TheDrawingBoard
Summary: What was going on in Edward Nygma's mind the first few times he got to speak with Oswald Cobblepot? What the hell was he thinking, trying to make him his mentor? Probably something like this.





	First Impressions of a Flightless Bird

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [First Impressions of a Riddle Man](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10793559) by [originalcontent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/originalcontent/pseuds/originalcontent). 



> Check that out for Oswald's thought process- and honestly, because they are an amazing author.
> 
> The idea came from a warm-up drabble I began one day, but once originalcontent posted their own version of it, I just knew Ed had to get his own thoughts out there.

Edward Nygma was always cautious when dealing with fate.

Up until that lovely, lonely walk he endured through the secluded woods outside of Gotham, he had never wanted to tempt it. He never stood on the edge of a bridge just to see if the wind would push him off, nor did he speed down highways in the middle of the night just to see how fast he could go before hitting someone. However, when his eyes locked with the rough gaze of those striking blue irises filled with desperation and pain, he distinctly knew it was fate. From the moment he first saw him at the GCPD, Edward knew that one day he would be important to him. The whole reason he picked him out in the first place was mainly the aura of confidence the Penguin seemed to radiate off of him. He wanted to know what it felt like to be close to him- even if it meant taking a step back.

Now what? Flipping the former kingpin ungracefully, Edward knew he had to do something. As he carefully began to clean the wound the idiot had let get infected, the man waited for his other half to begin talking. He never failed to show when something like this happened, even after they had found harmony with Kristen Kringle. The double was silent. Expressing his shock quietly to himself, he allowed his mind to wander. Who was this man really? What had happened? Could he really help him? Pulling back from the careful planning he had engulfed himself in, he sighed disappointedly, reprimanding himself, “All questions will be answered once he wakes up. No need to get stuck on them now.” But that’s exactly what the Riddle Man did. Get stuck on every question he could fathom.

Ed nearly jumped out of his own skin when he saw the other about wake up about an hour after he had finished the last stitch. Walking over to the side of the bed, he gave him the friendliest smile he could give to try to put his fears at ease. “Morning sleepyhead,” he greeted playfully; again, he was trying to give off the safest aura possible. Despite his efforts, the other began to struggle and panic. Instantly realizing the mistake, he grabbed the sedative off the table and stuck it right in the other’s neck. “Apologies in advance!”

Apologies in advance? Really? That’s all he could think to say? Smacking his stupid brain for its stupid impulses, Ed set the syringe down on the table and kept himself busy by starting tea for himself- and the other in about an hour or two. A part of the newly reborn killer began to grow restless, wanting to do something with his time. Honestly, all he could do was sit and wait. And watch the blanket move up and down in time with the Penguin’s breathing. So peaceful. It was interesting to see just how peaceful a killer could actually be- unlike the tossing and turning he had been subjugated to these past few nights. Maybe it was the drugs. Setting up a glass of water for him, Ed ran over his speech for the fifth time that day. It needed to be perfect. He may only have one chance to convince this man to help him- and if he didn’t convince him? Well, this newfound hobby of his might just come up short one of these days. This man was the only one who could help him.

It took him the full two hours to wake up, of course. The moment Ed knew he could pay attention enough to listen, he began his rehearsed piece. Maybe it seemed like he wasn’t desperate enough, but the Penguin- or, Oswald. He didn’t know how he should address him at this point- shut him out, trying to leave once again. Ed knew he couldn’t go anywhere, but it didn’t seem so bad. The shorter falling to the ground suddenly, however, proved otherwise. “Still need more time to heal, I see. Must have done a real number on you,” he sighed to himself, yet again having to drag the flightless bird into his bed. He will probably be out for a while this time. Crossing his arms over his chest, he let out another deep sigh, watching the smaller settle into the bed, almost like a sick puppy. Almost cute. What to do? Obviously everything he had gone through these past few days has almost destroyed him. Honestly, Ed was almost disappointed. There was a part of him that just wanted to let him go, give up on him, and find his own way. He was definitely not the Penguin he had seen before, so why waste the time? Shaking those destructive thoughts out of his brain, he realized exactly what he needed to do.

Tracking down Leonard was simple. About as simple as retracing his own steps, just retracing someone else’s. Did that make sense? It did to him at least. Tying the unfortunate man to one of the spare chairs in the dining part of the apartment, Ed decided that this would be his last test. If Penguin didn’t take him up on this, then he would have no choice but to finish patching him up then let him loose back into the concrete jungles of Gotham. He’d be able to take care of himself.

And of course, he disappointed him once again. Oswald buried his face once again into the blankets, turning his back on everything Ed knew about him. Rage burned inside him, but he kept it hidden. Pulling the chair into the closet, he decided to leave him for later. He’d need some sort of pick-me-up after what he needed to do next. That’s when he heard it. Oswald’s soft humming from underneath the blanket. That song. He knew that song. It was a lullaby- a mother’s lullaby! Flipping through his countless piano books, he almost thought it was hopeless until he came across an old beginner’s book, gathering dust in the back of the shelf. Sitting down on the hard ground surrounded by the multitudes of books of sheet music he had pulled out of the way, his eyes suddenly began to grow heavy as he scoured the pages of notes. When was the last time he slept? He didn’t have enough to come up with the answer as he began to lay back, his eyes sliding shut.

The next thing he remembered was waking up with something obscuring his vision. Groaning softly, he pulled the book off his face, fixing his glasses that had gone askew. As the sleepiness cleared from his vision with each blink, he focused on the pages in front of him. “I light another candle… dry the tears from my face…” he read the lyrics aloud, trying to make sense of what it was. Then it hit him. Sitting up quickly- well, a little too quickly for his back, which angrily reminded him that he had slept on the floor for a good few hours if not the rest of the day- he got up and went to the piano, stretching on the way over. Setting up the sheet music, his eyes scanned the pages, taking in the notes and imagining the sound of each chord. Humming it probably off key to himself, he sifted through his expansive collection of records, finding the accompanying learning record that went along with that specific book. A strike of good luck! Looking towards the bed, he allowed himself a selfish smile. Maybe he will finally be the strike of luck he needed so desperately now. He couldn’t give up hope- not until everything is tried. Setting up the record, he let the track play once, hearing stirring from the nearby bed. He was waking up. As the track looped around once more, Ed began picking the chords softly, his own voice breaking from his throat to join the woman’s singing as well.

It worked. It worked more than he had anticipated. At least, at first. Even opening up to the other about Ms. Kringle didn’t suffice.  _ Allow me. _ He felt himself grow more confident as he allowed that stronger person inside of him take hold to be able to set things right. In that moment, cutting off the Penguin from escaping, he knew he had to tell him the truth. How the world was for them now. Which awarded him a knife to his neck, but he didn’t care. He continued, speaking words that would haunt him sometime down the road- but for now, it had done what he wanted.

Watching the Penguin settle into the realization of how he had been freed, Ed knew he had made the better choice. As he took the knife gently from his new mentor’s hand, his heart skipped a beat. Something he chalked up to excitement as he greeted this day as a rebirth for himself and, one day, the city of Gotham.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [First Impressions of a Riddle Man](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10793559) by [originalcontent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/originalcontent/pseuds/originalcontent)




End file.
